Chapter 28 The Mother’s Oath
The Mother’s Oath
My conditions were simple:
One, anyone in attendance had to perform the Mother’s Oath.
Whatever we learned—if anything—from my memory could not be used against me, nor could it be spoken about to anyone outside those who took the oath.
I would have preferred for this to be a bargain, but the truth was that bargains were tete-a-tete, which meant a group could not enter into one.
Another limitation of the wild magic that binds bargains was that one could only enter into two bargains within their lifetime.
Or at least that was the law. Technically, one could do it more than twice, but it was believed that a bargain’s mark had a certain level of toxicity, and those broke the cardinal rule slowly went mad.
The second condition I’d presented to Caius wasn’t received as well, but he relented.
I couldn’t help but shake a gnawing feeling that Endymion’s silence was a bad omen, and risking five more weeks to mount a rescue for the twins was untenable.
We’d finally agreed that we’d go no later than a week from when Tarrin wakes up, given he might have valuable information that could change our plans.
Was I the biggest fan of Cassy and Leighton? No. But I’d stopped questioning why rescuing them was so important to me and accepted that compassion—even for those that hurt me—was a part of who I was. Though, I doubted that would ever extend to Thaddeus.
“Those were some ballsy demands you made of Uncle C,” Kaelun said at my side.
I shrugged. To me, the only ballsy part was insisting Caius deliver the news about the oath to everyone; because, honestly, I was done with explaining my reasons. They could do the oath and witness my memory, or they could piss off. It wasn’t me that wanted to share it, after all.
“Why did you want to stay here anyway?” my shadow asked.
I couldn’t help but breathe in the intoxicating aroma of the endless pink flowers, their canopy so thick that only tiny specks of sunlight snuck through, giving it a glitter effect.
“It’s peaceful here,” I offered. The truth was, I didn’t want to go back to the Summer Court knowing that I was about to share the nightmare I wished they could just steal instead.
“I wish there was an unara that could pluck out a memory one no longer wishes to suffer and offer it up to whatever god would delight in such things,” I mused.
“Yeah, but we are the sum of our memories, even the bad ones.”
I chewed on his words, knowing they were true for him.
And stars, had I been raised in a loving and supportive family like he was, knowing I had the love of my life waiting at home for me, I’d probably feel the same way.
I mean, any deviation from his life—even just a memory—could alter what it currently looked like, and who would want to risk that?
It was comforting to know that some lived beautiful lives, and I was genuinely happy for Kaelun that he was one of them, but on this point, we would never agree; because sign me up to wipe the damn board clean.
I didn’t even have to ask Kaelun if he was afraid of death; I already knew the answer.
He just had too much life to live and so many to live for.
As directed by Caius, Kaelun valenned us back to the Summer Palace a little over an hour later. What I hadn’t expected was the familiar hallway from the summer solstice. The second he took a step, I knew exactly where we were headed—the massive ballroom.
My heart kicked up a beat as we rounded the corner, the opulent marble staircase coming into view.
How different it was now in the light of day; no fancy dress, no arm to thread mine through, no towering commanders at our backs, no music, and no crowd.
My focus darted to where Amos had left me.
Where Endymion had stood the first time I’d set eyes on him. Where Caius had toasted our arrival.
It was fitting to do it here, I supposed. In a way, this was where it all began. At least for me.
“Nyleeria!” Fiora’s silken voice was all but swallowed by the massive open-aired pace, her joy at seeing me evident; and stars, it was exactly what I needed.
A genuine smile graced my features as Kaelun and I descended the staircase, making our way to the middle of what had been the dance floor.
In an instant, Fiora scooped me into a hug, then held me at arm’s length.
“I’m so happy you’ve decided to do this, sweetheart, and I pray to the Mother and the gods of old that we’ll discover a way to protect you and your magic. ”
Smile fading, I swallowed hard. The gravity of what we were about to do weighed upon me as if Lumnara herself were resting on my shoulders.
“You all came?” I said, genuinely surprised as I took in the semi-circle that had formed around me with Caius, Myron, Artton, Sidrick, Kaelun, and Fiora.
“Of course, my dear,” Myron said, stepping forward.
“And you’ve all taken the oath?”
“Not yet,” Myron answered in that soft way of his. “We thought it important that you witness it for yourself to know that you are safe with us.”
A confusing flood of emotions poured through me, filling me with warmth. “Thank you,” I said, though it was barely above a whisper.
Fiora took my hands in hers. “Are you ready to get started?”
I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to. “You’re going to do great,” she said with a wink, then stepped away to join Myron, leaving me in the center of the circle they’d formed around me.
“Okay, Nyleeria.” Caius’ deep voice was void of its usual rumble as he pulled my attention in his direction. “You’re going to say the words we agreed upon. Each court will say their vows in turn, as one, and seal it with the Mother in the manner of their court’s custom. Do you understand?”
I nodded again, still not entirely certain.
“All right then. Go ahead,” Caius prompted.
I took them all in, one by one. Nothing but kindness reflected back at me, and that warm feeling flooded me again, as if my powers were drawn forth by theirs.
Breathing in deep, I let out a long breath, retrieved the parchment from a pocket, and steadied myself for what came next.
Then, I began to read the rite.
“As the Mother is our witness, we, of our own free will, hereby vow to protect the sanctity and secrecy of any and all shared visions we shall be graced with by Sister Nyleeria, who shall also remain protected from and by us—regardless of what knowledge is obtained. Should these vows be broken, the Mother may claim a befitting toll, including the forfeiture of our powers. This oath shall remain intact in full until Sister Nyleeria releases us as a group, as individuals, until death, or until the Mother herself has deemed our release necessary.”
The moment the last word rolled off my tongue, the tiny hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck stood at attention, and a chill ran through my body.
In unison, the summer fae placed two fingers to their lips, then pressed them above their chest before saying, “As the Mother is our witness.”
Another chill racked my body before I shifted my attention to Fiora and Myron.
With pointed toes, they swept their right legs in a wide arch above their heads in an elegant left to right motion like nimble dancers.
Foot back on solid ground, they each took their left hand, palm up, and made the same sweeping motion as their feet, but going from right to left this time.
My breath hitched as two perfect arcs of flowers bloomed from the invisible lines they’d created drawn.
Myron reached out and plucked a delicate, three-petaled violet from the array.
Fiora followed, pulling the matching flower from her arch.
They exchanged flowers only to place the others in the spot they had plucked theirs from.
I couldn’t look away as the two floral semi-circles shifted to encircle them.
Gently, Fiora placed her delicate hands atop Myron’s waiting hands.
Now touching, they looked into each other’s eyes, then said, “As the Mother is our witness.”
And as if the Mother herself had reached through the ground to accept their offering, the flowers disappeared below the marble surface.
I stayed silent for a time, speech stolen from me in the way reverence does when one is in the presence of something beautifully sacred.
“Are you ready?” Myron’s soft voice asked, breaking the silence.
I blinked, trying to come back to reality.
Was I ready? No, definitively not. But no amount of time would change that. “Can you please explain exactly what’s going to happen?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, stepping closer to me.
“My ability allows me to connect to someone’s memories,” he said.
“Ability?” I asked, then stole a quick glance over my shoulder at Kaelun. “Like an unara?”
“Yes. Exactly like an unara.”
“How does it work?”
“Well, one-on-one my High Lord power can reach for memories—”
“That’s what you meant by going deeper during the summer solstice? You were searching for my memories?” I asked, tone more accusation than question. I’d never forget how his power had tried to dig for something; how I had to stop him several times.
“Yes,” he said, having the good sense to look abashed. “I am sorry for that, Nyleeria.”
I nodded, motioning for him to go on while wondering if it would be more difficult for him to access my memories, given I was the spark.
Truth was, even as a human he wasn’t able to tap into them, not to mention I could physically feel his power prodding.
Then again, maybe it was different when the participant was willing.
“As I said,” he continued, “normally my power alone is enough, but to share the memory with everyone in a sort of vision, we will have to be physically connected for it to transfer. As Caius and I have access to more power than everyone else—with the exception of you, of course—you will be placed between the two of us as the anchor to the memory.”
“And I…” I began to ask, but the rest of the question lodged in my throat. Gods was I nervous.
“And?” Myron prompted.
“I… I won’t feel any of it?”
“Mother, no. Why would you possibly think that?”
I wrapped my arms around my torso. “Because the last time this happened… I felt all of it.”
“As did Endymion,” Caius added.
The High Lord of spring shook his head. “From what I understand, it was as if the spark pulled Endymion into the memory. This is different. If I thought for a moment that any of us would be in danger, Fiora wouldn’t be here.”
As if needing him to know she was safe, Fiora came to his side and threaded her fingers through his.
His full being melted with warmth as he turned his gaze to her.
Slipping up on her tiptoes, she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
Releasing her hand, he wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side.
The ache in my chest returned, but it wasn’t as sharp this time. Seeing the tenderness between these two was magic in and of itself.
“Where was I?” Myron asked.
“Making the rest of us look bad,” Artton ribbed, and the tension of the moment dissipated as the room filled with soft laughter.
“Right,” Myron said. “There’s nothing to worry about, Nyleeria. My unara works very differently than what you’ve experienced. Think of it less like a vision and more like a painting—inert, but still telling a story.”
His words began untangling the knot of apprehension I’d harbored deep within. It wasn’t gone, of course, but it did ease some of my fear.
“And if you prefer,” he added, “I’m happy to keep you out of the vision entirely. You’d just have to start thinking of the memory, and then I can take it from there.”
“Really?” I asked, looking from him to Fiora.
Myron chuckled. “Yes, really.”
I took in a deep breath and exhaled. I didn’t have to relive it. All I had to do was show him the door, and they could walk through.
“Are you ready?” Caius said to my right.
At this point, I was done with it looming over my head. Nodding, I looked to Myron and said, “Yes. I’m ready.”